Most recently published stories in Filthy.
It was a hot 85 degree summer day in July. The wind blew, but it just wasn't helping the heat. I stopped at the convenience store for a frappuccino and my daily Pay Me lottery ticket before heading to my employer’s house, Mr. and Mrs. Ian Burns. As I got into my car, I put my frappuccino down and began scratching my ticket. I held my breath like I always do in the hopes that I may win something big, but I almost passed out when I saw the matching numbers. “I’m Rich!” I yelled as I hopped around in my car like a lunatic. People stared as they passed by and I had to calm myself down. I just won twenty thousand dollars and the next step is to go get the man I love.
Master Damien slid his hands under her skirt. He felt the bare skin above her stockings, then he fingered the straps connecting them to her garter belt. When she dared to lift her eyes to his, he smiled and nodded approvingly. "Very nice choice, my dear." He kissed her forehead and she dropped her gaze.
The Hoo-Hoo Underground Ladies Club
The tower of St. Jonathan’s Cathedral was – surprisingly – short. It was the kind of thing one would assume was crafted less by an engineer and more by an atheist: a stout little polyp erected atop an otherwise forgettable house of worship, interesting as a pronounced mole might make the butt of a forgettable lover interesting. This is, at least, what Mr. Fibroni thought as he stared at it over his morning cup of coffee. It brought to mind the mole, but damn if he couldn’t remember the man’s name. It chafed him, to put it mildly.
I was nude when I lit the green offering candle, placed a drop of blood upon it, and said my thanks to Astaroth. The flames flickered for a moment, and the sheer beauty of it entranced me. I felt tears prickle at the corners of my eyes, and my face begins to redden slightly—a sign that they were here with me in the room. As my last offering for the evening, I prostrated before my altar in front of their space. I offered my body to the Demon as a show of my trust and deepest appreciation.
He draws me every afternoon as the sun moves across the metal and glass of the barred windows. I stare at the stone walls inches from the bed, waiting, hearing the scratch of pencil against paper. Sometimes he asks me to turn over and look at him or to lay on my back and close my eyes. His hand never stops moving, making long sweeps over the pages. I am the solitary occupant of this hidden atelier, his monastic muse.
The Hottest Winter Bods in Women's Sports of 2021 Pt. 3
People think that March automatically means that it is spring in the United States. That is not true. Spring officially starts March 20. With that being said we will grant you a third edition of The Hottest Winter Bods in Women's Sports. This may be the best one yet. We will let you be the judge.
I always wondered when I would be rich or if it would ever happen. A series of things had to take place in order for that to happen. The first thing my heart had to be broken into irreparable pieces. The second thing I became as mean and as cold as everyone else around me and lastly someone wanted to permanently fix my problems.
I watched you deviously as you washed the shampoo from your hair with your eyes closed; you’d never suspect a thing. I kneeled before you and slowly clasped my mouth around you, “Sweetie,” you smirked, and a smile stretched on my lips. You opened your eyes and looked down at me; you pulled me up and turned me around. “Bend over,” you said, then you lift one of my legs and place it on the edge of the tub. The hot water beat on my ass as you slide it in, mending the gap between us. A warmth relaxed my body, and I could decipher whether it was the water or the heat of your body. Slowly you started to stroke in and out of me, I braced my hands on the tiled walls to keep myself from falling, but soon that didn’t matter because you grabbed that same leg and grabbed my hair, pulling me closer to you. You were at the perfect angle—the precise projection. I felt your strong arms lift me slightly off my feet because my knees were too weak to keep my balance; you knew me all too well. The water from the shower splash on the floor, getting it just as wet as my insides, but I didn’t care if flooding the room wouldn’t get me my security deposit back. The mood was too right; dim lights, wet bodies clashing, and your tongue down my throat—what do you expect me to do? Usually, I don’t care for shower sex, but today is not the same; you tease me way too much today. You thought you could just throw me on the countertop and then beat my pussy up just enough for my mind to explode but just enough to leave me wanting more? And then hop in the shower as nothing happened? Or earlier when you nibbled on the hood of my pussy through my panties and then went back to playing COD? No sir, you’ve tortured me long enough.
Trippin’ Down Yonder
After Solely and Sulley’s weekly Saturday tea date, Sulley walks in on her boyfriend passionately making love. Sulley planned to quickly running into her house, grab her shrooms then jump back into Solely’s car and head to Soley’s place. While Sulley was fumbling her keys to the front door she was greeted with unfamiliar moans. Once she opened the door she quietly crept up the stairs following the noise. With each step the moans grew louder and more intense. When she finally made it to the door she swung it open and began screaming. Sulley could not believe her eyes; her jaw was on the floor. In front of Sulley lies her boyfriend, Izzie underneath a finely-chiseled body with long brown curls down his back and a tall bearded tattooed dark-skinned man behind him. She was dumbfounded. After eight years of dating Izzie she had never suspected that he could be a homosexual. Izzie stammered, “it’s not what it looks like. Babe, it’s- Sulley! Sulley!” he pushes the men out of his way, grabs a pillow to cover his penis and chases her down the stairs. By the time he makes it to the front door he could hear Sulley yelling “DRIVE!”
Love Between Time
It is 2008, a cold wintery morning in Milan, the fog is down and the cold is crippling in whenever someone opens the door to enter the café. I have my warm coffee and a pastry in front of me on the small white table. The buzz of the morning fills the space full of people shouting their orders in their normal hurry to go to work. I look around the small crowded space, the smell of baking pastries in the air, so familiar to me and brings my attention to my breakfast once again. While I give a bite of my croissant and a sip of coffee, I close my eyes and the thought of that night comes back to me. I start to remember those sweet moments the last time I saw Noah; I squeeze the black notebook into my hands and try to feel his memories a little closer. The sweetness of his mouth, the warmth of his body, his embrace over me, then suddenly the thought comes to my mind “has it been three years since we last saw each other without knowing that it would be the last time?”. The memories are still so present.
Friends with Benefits
When I finally reached work, It was 9:40 am when I finally got to the building. Everyone was standing outside and I walked up to Sarah, a girl I met at the interview and asked her what's going on. " Fire alarm went off. We've been standing out here over an hour," she said all this, never once looking up from her phone. "you're late," I immediately froze when she said that. Was she going to snitch on me? As if she heard my internal question, she said, “But don’t worry, they won’t know that. I sure as hell don’t care enough to tell” I took a breath of relief when she said that. She looked up at me from her phone. " I like your hair,” “thank you,” I said half blushing. Ten minutes later, we were back inside and ready to get to work.
Hide and Seek (Stories from the Sound #6) by TM Smith - Audiobook Review
Coming into this story thanks to Gay Book Promotions, this is my first time reading TM Smith. As I had not read the previous books, I was relieved that each book focused on a different standalone story - but it does feature characters or plot points from previous books.